


just water me with love

by aserenitatum



Category: Birds of Prey (And the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn) (2020)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, F/F, Smut, and helena is NOT jealous, dinah is endlessly amused, oliver queen makes an appearance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-17
Updated: 2020-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:13:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23179021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aserenitatum/pseuds/aserenitatum
Summary: “Tell me this, Dinah,” Oliver Queen starts, his voice dropping low and Helena unconsciously leans in as if it’ll help her hear better over their comms. “What are you doing at a fancy party like this?”“Just because I’m not on your arm anymore doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy a dress up every once in a while,” Dinah says in that syrupy tone that Helena usually loves so much, but the confirmation that this Oliver she’s talking to is the same Oliver that Dinah had dated for over a year keeps her from enjoying the wonderful melody of Dinah’s voice.or, the one where Oliver Queen shows up and makes Helena see green
Relationships: Helena Bertinelli/Dinah Lance
Comments: 66
Kudos: 399





	just water me with love

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by [this vid](https://www.instagram.com/p/B9cySOPF4n7/) and [this dress](https://www.instagram.com/p/B8YhXAzl5ds/) on jurnee smollett’s instagram that led my gay brain to spiral

“Well well well, if it isn’t the beautiful Dinah Lance.” 

Helena and Renee both pause at that, exchanging a quick, worried glance, ready to jump into action until Dinah’s quiet laugh echoes through the comms and while Renee relaxes back into her seat, Helena remains tense, brow furrowing even more. 

“Surprised to see you still alive, Ollie,” Dinah says, the cadence of her voice playful, followed by the man’s laugh and the sound of fabric rustling slightly. A hug. 

“Well somebody’s gotta keep the world safe.” 

Dinah laughs again, louder and completely genuine. 

“So what really brings you to Gotham?” she finally asks. 

“Just wanted to see what’s new here, maybe attend a party, talk to some pretty girls…” 

His voice sounds too close to Dinah’s comms and Helena wishes her nails weren’t so short because the feeling of them digging into her palm while she balls her hands up in fists used to be so comforting. 

“So who guards Star City while you spend twenty-five thousand dollars to talk to me?” 

“Hey, that money’s for charity.” 

Dinah hums and doesn’t say anything else and Helena tries to ignore Renee’s eyes boring a hole into the side of her head. 

“Tell me this, Dinah,” Oliver Queen starts, his voice dropping low and Helena unconsciously leans in as if it’ll help her hear better. “What are _you_ doing at a fancy party like this?” 

“Just because I’m not on your arm anymore doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy a dress up every once in a while,” Dinah says in that syrupy tone that Helena usually loves so much, but the confirmation that this Oliver she’s talking to is the same Oliver that Dinah had dated for over a year keeps her from enjoying the wonderful melody of Dinah’s voice. 

“With a dress like that I’m surprised you don’t have people lining the block waiting to be on your arm,” he throws back and Helena has no idea what Oliver Queen looks like but she can perfectly picture Dinah’s smile, the way she must be leaning into him so that their faces are close because their voices are hushed and she wonders if Dinah has a drink in her hand that she’s casually sipping from or if she’s gently, distractedly, running her fingers over Oliver Queen’s sleeve the way she sometimes does when she flirts with Helena. 

Before she can drown too much in that thought, Oliver Queen speaks again. 

“But last I checked, you had no love lost for Bruce Wayne.” 

“I still don’t.” Something in the sharpness of Dinah’s voice gives Helena pause, makes her wonder what the story there is and files it away to ask Dinah about later. “I’m working.” 

The downfall of not being in there and only getting to listen in through comms is that Helena and Renee have no idea what else is going on and so when Oliver lets out a delighted sort of gasp, they have no idea what it’s in response to. 

“Since when do you play for the good side?” he asks. 

“Does it matter?” 

“It does to me. Canary finally taking down bad guys, what a world we live in. As it so happens, I’m also here for Mr. Wallace.” 

“Human trafficking?” 

“Unfortunately, yes,” Oliver says and then it’s quiet for a long time, only occasionally broken by sounds of the party filtering over the comms. “We should team up.” 

“I have a team.” 

“Amazing. I’d love to meet ‘em. We should team up. Like the old days.” 

“We never worked together, Oliver,” Dinah says with a soft laugh and Helena recognises it too well, knows the exact expression of amusement and adoration that accompanies it and her whole body goes warm with tension. 

“We had fun together,” he says. “What’s the harm in mixing a little work and fun?” 

“I have plenty of fun without you, Mr. Queen.” 

Renee turns to look at her and Helena tries scowling to mask the twisted, mixed feeling of relief that Dinah’s turning him down and annoyance that she’s doing so in her low, breathy voice and when Renee lets out a small chuckle, she gives up, yanking the comms device from her ear and tossing it onto the table before stomping out of the warehouse. 

* * *

“Helena…” 

Dinah’s voice is low and it drags out her name and it’s so tempting to just let go of everything and succumb to that voice, but the sound of heels dropping to the floor reminds Helena that this isn’t a regular instance of Dinah coming home and kicking off her boots and is instead Dinah coming home after flirting mercilessly with Oliver Queen all night while they tried to find out as much information about a criminal as they could, teases and half-veiled jabs flying back and forth and belying a closeness while Helena had to just sit there and listen to it all. 

She hadn’t even been able to do anything about it, relegated to outside backup with Renee standing in if Dinah needed help at the gala, a decision Helena had made herself; choosing to avoid showing her face around the same people her family used to know in order to keep her true identity a secret — maintaining the secret that Helena Bertinelli did not die with her whole family ranking much higher than Helena Bertinelli wanting to go into a black-tie event to glare at Oliver Queen anytime he got within a foot of Dinah. 

Renee had reiterated that in as many words after Helena had come back and she’d sounded amused and also a little pitying while she’d said it, like she knew how much it all sucked but it hadn’t stopped Helena from letting out a growl in response and crossing her arms. 

After sitting tensely like that for an hour, with no danger in sight and Oliver Queen apparently helping them out with this one, Renee had sent her home, where she’s been sitting in the living room trying to “chill out” as Renee had advised her to. 

Dinah’s footsteps come down the hall towards her, and Helena forces her body to relax, mindful of the irony in that, as she keeps her gaze firmly trained on the book in her hands. 

“Hi, baby.” 

The letters swim in front of her eyes but Helena doesn’t lift her gaze, pretends to read the bottom of the page before turning onto a new one. “Hey,” she says absentmindedly. 

She doesn’t see the twitch of Dinah’s smile or the way she licks her lips slowly as her eyes take in every tense line of Helena’s body and her studiously avoidant gaze. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Reading.” 

“Hmm,” she hums and Helena can hear the swish of fabric on the floor as she steps closer, pace lazy. “I mean, _what are you doing_ , Helena?” 

“I’m reading.” 

“No, you’re not.” 

Helena doesn’t answer her, just flips another page. 

“Helena...” 

“What?” 

“Your book is upside down.” 

She feels caught, and it finally makes her snap, the sound of the book being violently tossed onto the side of the couch breaking the low calm of the room and she lifts her head to say something to Dinah when her words strangle her, the breath getting caught in her throat at the sight of the woman in front of her. 

Helena hadn’t gotten a good look at Dinah before she’d left for the gala and this is the first time she’s seeing the dress from up front and as much as it excites her and causes warmth to pool low in her belly, the reveal makes her jealousy flare up more than she thought it would. 

When Renee had said to her that the dress was low cut, Helena had thought that maybe it’d be as, if not slightly more, revealing as Dinah’s regular outfits but not this. The dress meets in the middle over Dinah’s lower abs and when she breathes out, Helena’s eyes are drawn to the muscles there and the way her soft skin glints in the light. She slowly moves her gaze up, over abs and between Dinah’s breasts up to her face to find Dinah smirking, that dimple on her right cheek more pronounced as she tries not to look too delighted by Helena’s response. 

It’s that self-satisfied smirk that finally snaps her out of it, her feet thudding to the floor as she gets up. When Dinah wears her heels they’re the same height but she’s barefoot now and Helena has long since abandoned her own shoes and the few inches between them may not seem like much but when Helena moves closer, Dinah loves the feeling of Helena towering over her. 

“Hi,” she says, looking up through her lashes. 

“Did you have a good time at the fundraiser?” 

“I had a great time,” Dinah answers, hating that Helena isn’t touching her yet. 

“Good.” 

“You’re mad at me.” 

“I’m not mad at you,” Helena says and she can’t stop her eyes from straying down, wondering what Oliver Queen had seen while towering over Dinah and she has to clench her jaw to avoid saying anything stupid when she sees that the gem at the middle of the dress that holds it all together doesn’t lay flush against Dinah’s lower abdomen and that when she tenses her muscles there’s the slightest gap and she knows what lays just below and her blood boils. 

“I know,” Dinah says, lips twitching and she shouldn’t find as much amusement in the redness creeping up Helena’s cheeks, not out of embarrassment but from quietly contained rage. “But you know…” 

That draws Helena’s eyes back to her face and even through her jealousy and anger, Dinah can see her eyes soften when their gazes lock. 

“I’m here.” 

Helena frowns, shoulders temporarily losing their tension. 

“I could be in a penthouse at the Four Seasons but I’m here,” Dinah says, lifting a hand to play with the edge of Helena’s loose shirt. “With you.” 

Helena scoffs and steps away, putting some distance between herself and Dinah’s wandering, _dangerous_ , hands as she shakes her head softly. “You live here.” 

“I live here with you.” 

“I wonder what Oliver Queen would think of that,” Helena throws back. 

“I think Ollie would enjoy knowing that flirting with me makes you this jealous,” Dinah says casually. 

“I am _not_ jealous!” Helena snaps. 

“No?” 

“No!” 

“Then why haven’t you kissed me yet?” Dinah returns in a silky smooth voice, lips twisted in challenge as her eyes lazily meet Helena’s after she whirls around to look at her, surprise clear so Dinah just props her hands on her hips. “I mean, if saying hi to your girlfriend after a night out is so difficult for you I could always just go back to the Four S—” 

The rest of her sentence is swallowed by Helena’s lips on hers, a firm hand curled around the back of her neck to hold her close as Helena backs her against the wall, pinning Dinah against the pale yellow wallpaper as she slips her tongue into her mouth and kisses her hotly. Hips press against Dinah’s, Helena’s other hand dragging down all the smooth skin exposed by the front of her dress and Dinah trembles when calloused fingers slip past the cinch just below her bellybutton. 

Helena’s hand encounters nothing but warm skin and her fingers easily slide between Dinah’s legs, barely having to touch before her fingers meet wet heat and a low growl falls from her lips. 

She can feel Dinah’s smirk through the kiss and a hand curls around her upper arm, nails digging into muscles to keep Helena’s hand in place as if she’s afraid that Helena’s going to stop touching her. 

“Where is your underwear?” 

“In the closet with all the others,” she whispers a little breathlessly, tone wicked. “I didn’t have a pair that wouldn’t show under the dress.” 

“You wore this dress _without_ underwear?” Helena asks more out of disbelief than anything. 

“All. Night.” 

Helena lets out another growl before kissing Dinah again, lips quickly moving away from her mouth to trail down, settling just under the line of her jaw and she can feel Dinah melt into her when she finds the spot, sucking hard and Dinah’s head thuds as it falls back against the wall. 

Helena scrapes her teeth over the soft skin while her fingers explore between Dinah’s legs and she basks in the moan it elicits. 

Dinah whines when Helena pulls her fingers away, hips lifting impatiently against her but Helena just ignores her, fingers sliding over her abs and under the line of the dress to curve around her waist and as her touch tracks higher, the dress shifts away from Dinah’s body, partially sliding down her arms. When Helena cups her breasts in her hands and squeezes, she enjoys the way Dinah’s entire body trembles in response and the feeling of cool metal against her palms. 

Dinah thrusts her chest into Helena’s touch, a needy sigh falling from her lips and Helena knows what she wants so she dips her head and takes a firm nipple into her mouth, tongue flicking over and playing with the barbell there and drawing out more breathy sounds from Dinah. 

Once Dinah has one arm free from her dress, she gives up on removing the long sleeve from the other, more focused on burying her fingers in Helena’s short hair and keeping her in place while she arches with pleasure, pushing more of her chest against Helena’s face and whining when Helena switches to the other breast, tongue taking full advantage of the piercing to tease Dinah. 

Her left hand lifts to Dinah’s right but she doesn’t tangle their fingers, instead tugs softly at the fabric over her wrist until Dinah lifts that hand from her head and lets Helena pull the sleeve down her arm quickly and efficiently. 

Everything about Dinah is warm as Helena drags her lips further down, smiling against the quiver of Dinah’s tummy when she rakes her teeth there and her fingers curl into the fabric pooled at Dinah’s hips, sole focus on peeling the garment away from Dinah’s body and pressing her mouth to all the spots that Oliver Queen isn’t allowed to touch anymore. 

She barely had to tug, barely has to do anything before the fabric slides over Dinah’s hips and falls away from her with merely a whisper of sound and then Helena’s faced with an expanse of brown skin, soft and supple to the touch like every part of Dinah is yielding to her. 

She kisses down, across to her hip and the crease of her leg and Dinah’s breathing is slow and deep, anticipating Helena’s every move and it’s wonderful to be trusted like this, that Dinah lets her explore to her heart’s content and coupled with the fact that Helena knows impatience blooms inside Dinah, she decides to give Dinah a little bit of her own medicine. 

She doesn’t bury her face between her legs, choosing instead to curl a hand around the back of her thigh and urge it up, over her shoulder. 

Helena almost gives in then, the sight of Dinah spread open and the scent of her arousal hitting her but she only takes a moment to close her eyes and take it in before turning her head and pressing her mouth to Dinah’s thigh. 

The skin there is so soft and Helena laves attention to it, warmth skittering down her spine when Dinah’s fingers slide through her hair again, tugging impatiently as her hips jump. 

Helena loves her legs so much and so she takes extra time there, sweeps her hand down the outside of her leg, nails dragging along her knee where it’s tucked over Helena’s shoulder and further down along the side of her calf and Dinah trembles so hard that if she hadn’t seen Canary balance on one leg during fights to kick her opponents down, Helena would have worried about Dinah crumpling to the floor. 

Teasing her is fun and the frisson of revenge that had undercut so many of Helena’s decisions throughout the years seeps back into her bones, wanting to drag this out and torture Dinah for making her listen to the way she’d sweet-talked Oliver Queen and she takes a sick pleasure in the way Dinah keeps rolling her hips, eagerly looking for something, anything, to relieve the need curling inside her, something Helena is too gleeful in withholding. 

And then without preamble or warning, she turns her head and slides her tongue through Dinah’s folds, tasting and then exploring, hands firmly holding Dinah when she feels the woman’s legs tremble. 

She’s still learning all the ways she can pleasure Dinah and it’s like a game, flicking the tip of her tongue drags a sharp twitch from Dinah while flattening her tongue makes Dinah shudder and closing her lips over her clit and sucking means Dinah’s fingers fist in her hair to keep her close. 

Helena likes it when she grinds her hips down into her face, the wanton move usually accompanied by a broken moan that lets Helena know she’s right on the edge. 

“Helena,” Dinah moans, which is surprising because usually by this point her sounds are incoherent and Helena tilts her head so she can look up at Dinah while keeping her tongue in motion and Dinah’s abdomen quivers when their gazes lock. 

“Hm?” 

Dinah’s eyelashes flutter and her teeth close over her lower lip, her next exhale coming out stuttered and Helena doesn’t think she’ll be getting more words from Dinah for now so she focuses back on the task at hand. 

The moans and the sighs and the hips lifting to meet her mouth are constant praise from Dinah that Helena more than laps up, heat skittering down her spine when Dinah makes a low sound from the back of her throat. She has half a mind to be concerned about their windows and glassware but in all honesty they’re all things she can replace and the idea of dragging the Canary cry from Dinah makes her even more determined, her fingers firm around Dinah’s hip. 

There’s a sweetness to the way Dinah reaches for her and tangles their fingers to hold onto her, like she needs an anchor through the haze of pleasure and Helena smiles against her, next flick of her tongue a little sharper and wetness coating her tongue. 

A loud pop outside suddenly takes Helena’s attention, her movements pausing as she lifts her head, brow furrowing with worry but she barely gets a fresh of breath air and concern for their safety before Dinah yanks her head back, hips grinding into Helena’s face. 

“Fuck,” Dinah moans when Helena closes her mouth over her and sucks, her nails digging into Helena’s scalp so she does it again, and again, until Dinah’s breaths come in short gasps and then all she has to do is drag the flat of her tongue over Dinah’s clit firmly and she’s gone, muscles tightening and a piercing cry falling from Dinah’s lips while she comes, her whole body shaking with the force of her orgasm and Helena doesn’t let up, keeps swirling her tongue in an erratic pace to tease her just that little bit more. 

She draws a stuttered moan from Dinah, her leg shifting and hooking around Helena’s body to keep her exactly as she is while Dinah rides out her orgasm, trying to drag out the euphoria as much as she can until she realises how hard she’s tugging at Helena’s scalp and her fingers loosening their grip is the first sign Helena gets that she’s slowly calming so she slows her own touches and pulls away, breath washing over Dinah’s sensitive skin and making her whine softly. 

With a steadying hand on Dinah’s leg she stands up, body sliding over Dinah’s and she barely notices the twitch when her eyes drag over Dinah’s face to take it all in. The elegant bun at the nape of her neck has come loose, brown locks framing Dinah’s face messily and she looks completely debauched, her necklace still on and a flush across her skin making pride blossom in Helena’s chest. 

Dinah drags her into a kiss, needy and full of promise as she keeps her leg curled around Helena’s body, lifting her hips and moving in a slow wine, fluid and effortless like everything else about her and as if she hadn’t just had an orgasm and Helena feels a new rush of arousal pool low in her gut. 

“Take me to bed,” Dinah whispers into her ear, voice low like a promise as her body keeps moving against Helena’s and she just knows that Dinah is going to press her into the mattress and grind on top of her just the way Helena likes it. 

She’ll part Helena’s legs and settle over her just right, twisting enough for them both to feel it before slowly rocking her hips back and forth, the movement reminding Helena of waves rolling against the shore and she’ll get to touch and feel and Dinah will drop down to kiss her messily when it’s all too much and they’re close. 

“Okay,” Helena says because the promised pleasure in the words is addicting and she needs the release but she also loves the way Dinah will collapse against her after, skin warm and body still twitching with aftershocks. She’ll seek out Helena’s lips for a slow, languid kiss, fingers cupping around her jaw to keep her close even though Dinah will be fully on top of her and there’s nowhere for Helena to go. 

“I wore it for you,” is the first thing Dinah says after they do all that, her fingertips pressed against the skin just below Helena’s ear, lips ghosting over Helena’s jaw. 

“What?” 

“The dress,” Dinah murmurs, continuing her path down Helena’s neck and over her throat. “I didn’t know Oliver would be there so the dress was for you, not him.” 

“Stop fucking talking about Oliver Queen,” Helena growls, the mention and reminder of the man an unwelcome one and she doesn’t realise she’s dragged her nails down Dinah’s back until the woman moans against her neck and curves against her touch. 

“I’m sorry.” 

Helena shakes her head to drop it but a stray comment tugs at her and she can’t let it go, mouth opening and closing a few times as she tries to figure out how to broach this topic. 

“What?” Dinah says, lifting her head to be able to look at Helena with a sweet, encouraging smile. 

“Renee said you have a type,” Helena starts and Dinah’s eyes turn dark as her smile twists. 

She considers the words, brow furrowing and Helena watches her come to a conclusion that clearly frustrates her. 

“Dammit.” 

“What?” 

“I hate that Renee’s right.” At Helena’s confused look, she elaborates. “She means I date a certain type of person.” 

“I am nothing like Oliver Queen,” she growls lowly and Dinah just lets out a soft, endeared laugh before kissing Helena firmly, her fingers curled around her bicep and thumb smoothing across the tense muscle, kissing her until she feels Helena melt under her again. 

“Rich kid with a tragic family history,” Dinah starts, her words murmured softly against Helena’s lips. “Vigilante alter ego.” 

Helena just hums quietly, too stubborn to admit to the parallels but not quite agreeing that it makes them that similar. 

“Big into archery...” Dinah must feel Helena bristle under her because she’s quick with a kiss again, hips rolling over Helena’s to quiet her. “Even though your crossbow is way cooler.” 

Helena calms again, sliding her hand lazily down Dinah’s back, along the dimples there and over the swell of her ass, fingers gripping almost possessively and she can feel Dinah smile as she presses open-mouthed kisses to Helena’s jawline. 

“And you both have great taste in women,” Dinah whispers into her ear, followed by a soft, low laugh that makes pleasure curl comfortably in Helena’s gut. 

“You mean you?” she asks, lifting a leg enough to slip it between Dinah’s, hand still anchoring her down as she shifts them and the hitch of breathing she gets in response is all the encouragement she needs. 

“Yes,” Dinah moans softly. “I mean me.” 

“I don’t like it.” 

“Renee’s joke about your similarities?” she teases, teeth closing over her lower lip and accentuating that adorable dimple in her right cheek while she continues slowly, almost lazily, moving her hips over Helena. 

“Being compared to a man stupid enough to let you go.” 

Their languid movements stop and Dinah’s eyes clear when she looks at Helena, lower lip slipping free as her smile grows impossibly wide. 

“What?” 

Dinah shakes her head as she sits up, fingers pressing against her midriff to hold her stable as she looks down at Helena with that endlessly endeared and gorgeous smile. “Just you.” 

“What me?” 

“Will you just admit you were jealous?” 

“No,” she says curtly, jaw clenching and Dinah’s head falls back with her laugh, the melody ringing in her ears like a song made just for her and when Dinah finally looks at her again, lips pressed together and eyes full of love, Helena wonders how she ever got this lucky. 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading and let me know what you think!  
> and stay tuned for other stuff coming soon :)


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